I stared at him in confusion, but then the next instant he had pulled my body up against his, softly pressing his mouth against mine just like the plivoi had in the plaza. He ran his fingers through my hair, pulling more strands loose from their messy braid. I didn’t know how to react. I just sat there, limply, while Ceilos’ lips caressed mine. But when he drew my lips apart and slipped his tongue into my mouth, I jerked back.

“Ceilos,” I squeaked.

He didn’t seem to notice my revulsion. His lips slid down the side of my neck, and his hands caressed my back, my thighs. His breath came out as a sigh. “I love you, Nadin,” he whispered, pulling my body closer to his, and I could feel the hardness of him beneath his clothing.

“Ceilos!” I cried again, louder this time.

He pulled away, his eyes unfocused and confused. “What is it?”

“I-I…” I was shaking. I didn’t know what to say. It was like I was asleep again, having another horrible nightmare.

He blinked a few times, his eyes coming back into focus. “What’s wrong? Didn’t you like it?”

Why would I like that?! my mind screamed, but I couldn’t find my voice. I couldn’t bear to see the hurt on Ceilos’ face, couldn’t understand what I had done to cause it.

He pushed away from me, getting to his feet. “I’m sorry, Nadin,” he said, his voice impossibly small. “I thought… I thought you loved me, too.”

I jumped up after him. “I do love you!” I protested.

“Then why don’t you—” I flinched, and he lowered his volume. “Why don’t you want me?”

I had broken him. No, I had broken us. I could feel it as surely as the cold air around us, as the fading atmosphere outside the dome. Something was wrong with me, and it had ruined Ceilos and me forever. We could never go back.

I couldn’t stop the tears this time. They coursed freely down my face, burned my throat. “I don’t know,” I said.

Ceilos didn’t say another word. He just turned and left me there, alone in the dark. I slumped down to the floor, my face against my knees, my shoulders shaking with sobs. This had to be a bad dream. I’d wake up in the morning and Gitrin would be home. The last week would never have happened. There’d be no Isaak, no crisis on Hamos, no conflict with the geroi, no argument with Ceilos. We’d never be broken.

I’d never be broken.

I told myself over and over that it would be all right, but the tears wouldn’t stop coming. Because deep in my heart, I knew it was a lie.

Chapter 22

“What’s your problem?” Isaak asked. “Are you still torqued at me for questioning your sainted geroi yesterday?”